


Out of mind

by Miss_Kitten



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Awkwardness, F/M, Fluff, Terrible pick up lines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 05:38:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7210169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Kitten/pseuds/Miss_Kitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jefferson comes to reader's shop every day, trying to impress her and flirt with her. It doesn't actually go the way he wants it, but after all, he achieves his goal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of mind

You were crouching, almost lying on the floor while you were looking for yeast. You could swear you put a new package on the lowest shelf, but it was missing now. You frowned, getting a bit angry at yourself that you somehow lost it. And you needed it right now to bake more bread.

The door to your bakery was opened and you opened your mouth to tell that you would be right there, but a deep, joyful voice intoned.

“Hello, is it me you’re looking for?”

You popped your head over the counter to look at grinning Jefferson and you giggled.

“You’re late today.”

“Forgive me, my fair lady,” he said seriously and you giggled again. He was a daily customer of yours and since the day one he tried to flirt with you or impress you in some way.

Well, day one didn’t actually go like that. You were chatting with Mary Margaret when Jefferson entered your shop, halting at the door immediately as his eyes landed on you. He seemed to be taken aback.

Mary Margaret left after a short moment and you looked at the man, smiling warmly.

“How can I help you?”

“I, uh, I need bread,” he mumbled, finally stepping inside but stopping in the middle of the shop.

“Well, you’re in the right place, but I need you to be more specific.”

“Rye one, please,” he said after a brief gaze on the shelves behind you and you reached for what he asked and packed his order.

“I never saw you around, you’re new in Storybrook?”

“No,” he answered simply, handing you money. You dropped the change into his opened palm. “I’m Jefferson, by the way,” he cracked a smile and you smiled back at him.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

“And you. See you tomorrow, Y/N,” he grinned again, heading to the door and glancing at you one last time before he went out.

You sighed as he walked out, smiling to yourself. Much to your surprise, you felt your cheeks warming up and you shook your head. He was good-looking, yes, but you couldn’t let yourself think about such things. You had just met him!

But it was two months ago and Jefferson came to your bakery every day, gaining more and more courage to throw a compliment there or a pick up line here.

However, if you were honest, those were the most terrible lines you had ever heard.

Once, he came in with puffed out chest and cocky smile, and leant on your counter, murmuring that you must’ve fell from heaven because he never saw a mortal as beautiful as you.

You almost cried from laughter.

Then, he used the “is your name google, cause you have everything I’m searching for” line and you almost choked on your tea.

But, after all, you thought it was rather adorable. He was mysterious, with his unique outfits and wide smile on his face. You noticed, however, that his eyes were always sad, even if they were sparkling when he laid them on you.  Yet you never asked about it. Maybe someday he would tell you.

“Forgiveness granted, my lord,” you stood up and curtseyed, gaining a breathy laughter from him, “the usual?”

“Yes, please,” he came to the counter, “what were you doing down there?”

“Looking for yeast. I don’t remember where I put it,” you confessed, a little embarrassed, furrowing your brows while you took rye bread and packed it for him.

“Then you are lucky, Y/N, because I can help you!” he called cheerfully and you opened your eyes wide as he showed you a hat, which he fished from behind his back. He must’ve kept it there since he came in, but for some reason you didn’t notice.

“A hat?” you asked, “how can a hat help me find my yeast?”

“I will spin it and work my magic, and yeast will appear inside of the hat.”

“Gosh, you’re serious,” you whispered as you studied his face. He nodded with a sort of crazy sparkle in his eyes.

“Of course I’m serious. Trust me, I do this all the time,” he assured, placing the hat on the counter and focusing his eyes on it. You shrugged, deciding that it might be amusing, because you were pretty sure that the hat wouldn’t work, obviously.

Jefferson took a breath and took a brim, whirling it. You watched the hat as it moved around and around and, for some reason, it started to twirl to the right.

Your worktop was on the right. Covered with flour.

“Uh-oh,” you breathed out, freezing in place. Jefferson bit his lower lip, but didn’t make a move. The two of you could only witness as the air around you filled with white powder, which lingered on everything – your hair, your face, your dress, the counter and Jefferson’s bread as well as on him.

“I am so sorry,” he panted, looking rather terrified. You shook down some of the flour from your face, chuckling at the sight of him with white powder everywhere.

“It’s okay,” you assured, still laughing and leant over the table to brush the flour off of his face. You gently moved your fingers over his forehead and eyebrows, giggling at the funny way he grimaced when shutting his eyes. Then, you cleaned his cheeks and nose and he twitched a little, causing you to cackle again.

Jefferson’s eyes never left your face as you cleansed him and when you reached his chin and your fingers traveled up to his lips, he stopped you by grasping your wrist.

“You’re driving me crazy, Y/N,” he whispered in raspy voice and your mouth fell agape.

“Tell me about it,” you said quietly as you leant forward and closed the small gap between you and Jefferson.

He moved his lips tenderly against yours, relishing the softness of your lips, how sweetly you tasted and how your fingers tangled into his hair. You shyly licked his lower lip and Jefferson happily parted his mouth to let you massage his tongue with yours, letting out a small moan when you did so.

Soon, however, you had to break the kiss, since both of you were out of breath and you looked at each other with wide, delighted smiles.

“You’re helping me clean this mess,” you said teasingly and Jefferson chuckled.

“Anything you wish, Y/N, but,” he leant in and caught your lips with his in a brief, chaste kiss, “I’m not done with you yet.”  


End file.
